


Another Round of Drinks

by FireflySong



Series: Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge 2020 [12]
Category: Tales of Phantasia
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Time Skips, also if you were wondering what the major character death is, because it covers a 150 year timeline, canon pairings implied, i needed so many fucking people to run the inn oh god, i use claus instead of klarth because that what tog introduced them to me as, oh yeah, spoliers: its claus dying of old age, the prompt is drink, theres like a million ocs in this, what were you expecting?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflySong/pseuds/FireflySong
Summary: The Euclid Inn and Tavern has stood for over a hundred years. In this time, the different proprietors of the establishment have seen numerous faces come and go. One face though is a constant. As is a few other faces, though as they appear a hundred years apart, its no surprise that no one catches that.Written for Day 12: Drink of the Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge over on tumblr.
Series: Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770988
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Another Round of Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> well lookie here, its another tales of phantasia fic from me. once again for the prompt month but this one is different. ive had the idea for this particular one stewing in my brain for nearly six years now, ever since i first discovered the characters, and waaaaay before i finally had the chance to play the game. very little has changed about this fic in the entire span of time ive been thinking about it. so take this years long endeavor, because writing it out has made me more emotional then i can believe.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at love-fireflysong if you feel so inclined!

Taryon Voss had been running the Euclid Inn and Tavern for close to thirty years now, his mother the fifty before that, and her father was the one to take it over from the Nerim family before she had been born. So to say that this building was the family’s pride and joy wouldn’t be too off the mark. It had been his home, his first and only job, and he, like the rest of the family, had put his blood, sweat, and tears into making it the town center that it was.

Because of that, Taryon knew every single person in town, so when two blond haired kids wandered in asking for where they could find one Claus F. Lester, it had been a shock. Not because he didn’t know Claus, everyone knew of that eccentric coot, but because he didn’t recognize the kids asking. Now, he knew that people from nearby Belladam Village and Hamel tended to stop by here to buy and trade goods, but these kids were different. They just didn’t look right.

The boy was wearing some armor; dented, scuffed, and bloody from the beasts they would have had to battle outside the village to make it here, and his red cape was slightly torn at the bottom edge. The girl meanwhile, was wearing white robes stained with blood, dirt, and grass, and on the front of the robe was a sigil he had never seen before. Both were tired and refused rooms when he offered, insistent that they meet Claus. Knowing that they would be back soon anyway, Taryon had given them directions to Claus’s house in the north and went back to work.

To his surprise, not only did they show up much later in the evening then he would have expected, but it was with Claus in tow. Claus almost never came into the tavern, he tended to stay shut up in his own house with his books and Mirald. Instead, he got found the three of them a table and he flagged down one of the waitresses (Taryon’s daughter Vivian) and ordered three flagons of ale for them. Taryon never heard any of the conversation, spoke in hushed tones, though he did catch the word’s ‘Lone Valley’ and ‘spirit’ once or twice. But after the three of them had finished their drinks and a promise to meet up in the morning, the two kids payed for a room for the night and that was the end of it.

The kids left the next morning bright and early and he never saw Claus after that either, but that wasn’t so unusual. As mentioned before, the man was a recluse of sorts and a known nutjob, always going on and on about how humans could use magic if only we could make pacts with the spirits. Crazy talk obviously, everyone knew that only elves and half-elves could use magic.

He saw the kids again though, not long after the news had reached Euclid that the Kingdom of Midgards had managed to beat back Dhaos’s army. They came in just as scuffed and bloody as the first time, though this time they were accompanied by a just as tired looking and scratched Claus, and a young half-elf with the pinkest hair he had ever seen. Bringing them a round of drinks, and quite a few more for the half-elf as the night went on, they were eventually joined by Mirald who sat with them and stole Claus’s own mug of ale. 

The five of them spent the evening laughing and drinking with abandon, Mirald and Claus acting like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks and the half-elf hanging off the blond boys arm, though he looked mighty uncomfortable about it. As the sky grew darker and the night chillier, he had had to let them know that if they were getting rooms to buy them now, otherwise he was closing for the night. The three younger ones paid for a room, the two blonde’s helping to carry their half-elf friend who was three sheets to the wind to bed, and Claus and Mirald returned to their own home.

Taryon never saw the blonde kids again after that morning when they left. A week or so later, Claus wandered back in with the half-elf, and Mirald not far behind. They had ordered a round of drinks and sat down to just talk. About three or so drinks in, the half-elf had put her face down on the table and just started bawling, the other two trying to help calm her down but doing little. Finally, they paid for their drinks and left, taking the half-elf with them as they promised her a bed in their house for the night and that she could leave to go see her father in the morning.

When he goes to clean the table off after they leave, he finds that they had left three flagons of ale and, curiously enough, a glass of chocolate milk undrank. After grumbling under his breath about wasteful customers, he cleans the table and puts the night, and kids, behind him.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Vivian, or Vivi as her friends know her, loves her inn and bar very much. Or at least, her inn and brother’s bar, but everyone knows that she owns both and that her old man was just being stubborn in not giving it to her. Even Kendrick knows that, leaving the management of both to her and her wife Bianca, while he works on getting the the plans for the new inn built and designed.

She thinks she’s better at this then her old man ever was. He wasn’t the most personable sort of man, and she can butter up almost anyone in a heartbeat. Take Arche for example. The half-elf had been a regular here for years now, coming in every second Friday, and often dragging Claus and sometimes Mirald in with her. Arche had what most people would call a bubbly personality, and the rest annoying and childish. It was infectious really, anyone drinking with her would often be laughing by the end of the night. And if they were really, really lucky, would find themselves a little less lonely that night as well.

Vivi had been that person once or twice herself, before she met Bianca of course. Not that she hadn’t tried to push it further, but enough time with Arche had taught her that while the half-elf was all for fooling around, she wasn’t looking for anything serious.

She had learned too that there was one night a year where Arche and Claus would get a table alone. No Mirald, no kids, nothing. On these nights they would order the same round of drinks once: five ales and a glass of chocolate milk. The two of them would seemingly reminisce over some important part of their life that was never explained, and leave after finishing a mug each. Leaving three full ales and that glass of milk.

Her old man had hated it. Tried to refuse them the service for not finishing their meal, but Vivi didn’t mind so much. It was obviously very important to them, and they always paid extra on those nights anyway. 

As the years went on and Vivi got older, so too did Claus and Mirald and their own kids, but Arche never did. Most times she would play this off, a little joke about wrinkles, one about old man stench that had Claus rolling in his seat, but it was obvious that it got to her. The week after her father died, she came in with Claus sobbing about how she didn’t want to lose anyone else, that it wasn’t fair. She hated the fact that she was going to outlive him and Mirald, and all their kids and grandkids. Hated that she was going to outlive the others too after waiting so long to see them again.

Vivi never did find out who these others were.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Jon was only 23 when he took over the Euclid Inn and Tavern, and his Aunt Vivi only 56 when she handed it to him. She was still as spry and quick with a wink as she had been ten years ago, but had told him that with the new Inn opening, it was time for new management. She would go out with the building built of logs, and he would come in with the strong foundations of stone and marble beneath him.

He was nervous though, why wouldn’t he be? Euclid was a bustling city of trade and commerce, the capital of the kingdom, and he was supposed to run the inn of it’s name and somehow not burn everything his family had built to the ground? It was a lot to say the least. 

Thankfully, he did have the regulars to help him out. They had been around for years and knew how things were done almost better then he did. The Bardin twins had been coming around since before he was born, and while they showed up less and less, Arche and old man Lester were always a common sight. Still, no matter the weather, or how old Claus got, the two of them would always show up for their round of drinks. They would find their table of six that they had claimed almost the second the place had reopened and place their drinks in each spot, and just talk and talk and talk.

Jon had been worried about the cost once, the inn was still so new in its new stone home, and he didn’t think he could afford the wasted drink. Aunt Vivi had cuffed him for that. 'It’s a small thing,' she had told him, 'makes them happy and they always pay double for it. What's a little bit of ale you have to toss for happy, returning customers. And anyway, it wasn’t like they did this every night, it was only once a year and he could swallow the cost.'

He could tell when old man Lester died, not from Arche splayed over the table weeping, but from the six drinks in front of her, and only one being drank out of. 

He had figured that to be the end of it, maybe the last time he saw their bubblegum pink half-elf but she continued to come around. Every second Friday as she had when Aunt Vivi had run the place, a drink or two or seven in hand and sometimes joined by another person. She never brought anyone in with her, sometimes someone would just be brave enough to sit down at the table with her. Most times, she would allow this, a smile of her face and laugh in her voice.

But she also still continued the six drink ritual, even though she was the only one now. Paid triple the price too for it now. And no one was allowed to join her those nights. Some people did try once or twice, decades separating the incident, and they had ended up on the floor with a broken nose and a screaming half-elf above them for their trouble.

Those Friday nights were the best though, she would ask him about Judy, if the pregnancy was coming along alright, how were the twins holding up once they had been born (a pair of rascals as one would expect). Jon had asked her once about the strange little tradition. Her face had fallen a little and though she smiled, it was pained and he felt like he was intruding on a secret and was about to apologize when she told him that she was just waiting for some friends to show up.

Considering the fact that they never once showed up, he thinks she deserves some better friends.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Basil and Saffron had always done everything together. They were born together, played together, and now ran the inn and tavern together. It was a 50/50 split though, as everything had been for them. No more, no less.

One night, Basil would run the inn side of the business, and Saffron the tavern. The next, they would switch. Saffron serving drinks while Basil made the beds. It was an odd system to be sure, but they made it work.

Some of the regulars would joke that they were in the wrong career, with names like theirs they should have gone into cooking or gardening, or running one of the grocery stores in the area. They would laugh of course, but the laughs would be slightly forced. This place was theirs, had always been theirs. They couldn’t think of a single thing they would rather be doing.

Miss Arche liked their names though. The first time she had met them, she had laughed when she found out. Not at them though, she had promised at the childish scowls of two five-year old's. She had a couple of friends with names like theirs: Mint and Cress. That had perked them right up. They had asked if they could meet them, surely friends of Miss Arche would be super polite and friendly, just like she was. The smile had tightened though, and said that she wouldn’t be seeing them for a very, very long time still.

Miss Arche was one of their favourite customers.

She still came in every second Friday, just like she had for their father, Great-Aunt Vivi, and even Great-Great Granddad Taryon. She was their longest and most loyal customer. And still looked not a day over 20 when she was close to a 100 by now. Perks of being half-elf she had winked at them, or more at Basil who had blushed profusely. Said that it came with few upsides, like being able to use magic and fly, but it got lonely sometimes. 

Both of them agreed that Miss Arche shouldn’t be lonely so whenever she came in, one of them would pull double duty for the evening while the other sat with her and talked. They think she appreciated it, if they way she always lit up when one of them came over to her was any indication. They couldn’t sit with her all the time of course, but they tried whenever they could.

They knew not to sit with her on her Six-Drink nights though. Basil had tried though, just the once. He had walked up to her with her order of five ales and a chocolate milk and tried to sit down, but she had stopped him dead in his tracks. No anger on her face though. Just sadness. They learnt then that this was a night just for her, no one else. 

They both apologized the next time Miss Arche came in, but she had brushed them off. Told them not to worry about it, and that they were welcome to join her any other night, just not that one. That night was special, it was for her to remember the past, and to dream of the future. Only five other people would ever be allowed to sit with her on those nights, and while she adored the two of them, they weren’t the right herbs.

Saffron understood then that she meant Mint, and Basil, Cress. Once again, they asked when she thought they would be by. She had laughed sadly at that, and told them that if they were lucky and lived for a very long time, that they might get to meet them one day.

Saffron died the month before Mint was born, Basil following her shortly a year later. They never knew how close they had been to meeting who they considered to be their own personal heroes.

\-------------------------------------------------------- 

Angela Voss remembered very well the party that the Klein girl had thrown one year. And the second and third barely a year after that. It had been chaos, pure and simple. The night had been quiet—peaceful even!—considering that she ran the oldest inn and tavern in Euclid. And then Klein had burst through the door, broom over her shoulder, and declared in a loud voice that all drinks that night were on her.

Angela had watched agog as she pulled a purse filled with gald out of nowhere and tossed it on the table. The rest of the night had been chaos, absolute chaos. She even ran out of ale that night and had had to send Henry to the next tavern over for more alcohol. At the end of the night, the area smelling more of ale than usual, she found Klein not quite passed out and crying at a table completely covered in empty mugs. Except, of course, for the four still completely full and the glass of chocolate milk. That must have been Henry, he was too soft on the half-elf by far, though it was far too early in the year for her wasteful tradition. 

Klein was murmuring something under her breath. Something about how she was so close now, that she was tired of waiting. For them to just get their butts over here already. That she missed them. Angela just poked her with the handle of the mop and told her that she either had to get a room, or get out.

Unlike her mother and dear uncle, Klein was decidedly her _least_ favourite customer.

\-------------------------------------------------------- 

It was true that Henry didn’t own the bar yet, his mother was still alive and kicking after all, but he had taken it upon himself to at least try to run it. He loved his mother dearly, but it was a well-known fact that Angela Voss was more demon then angel, and him being the face of the tavern was helping to draw in new faces.

Like the family he was greeting now. A merchant family, all four of them with hair as blue as the sky outside, had come to bring a new shipment of ale for the tavern and cloth for the inn. The Burklight’s, as they had introduced themselves, paid for a couple of rooms at the inn while their son looked around the room, his hand clutching tight onto his little sisters. He saw Arche pass through with a wave to the tavern side of things, it was a second Friday after all, only to stop suddenly. He watched confused as she turned to just stare in horror, and something else he couldn’t quite place, at the little boy. Henry tilted his head to ask if anything was wrong, but she was gone before he could.

He found her shortly after, crying softly with a smile on her face and whispering the word finally under her breath over and over again.

He would see the boy a few times over the years, once or twice with his sister, and often with a blond haired boy carrying a sword. He had once asked if they knew of a half-elf with pink hair, but both had just given him looks of such confusion that he never pried again.

The worst though, was one night. Arche had come in, tears streaming down her face and demanded to be served nothing but alcohol that night and not allowed to leave for anything. She spent the rest of the night at her usual table drowning herself in cup after cup, sobbing that she was sorry. It was all she said that night. Just sorry, over and over again. Even has her words became more slurred and her tears came harder as the night progressed.

He found out the next day that Toltus had been razed and very nearly burnt to the ground. That no one had survived the slaughter.

And then, a week later, she started spending every night at the tavern. She had been there for nearly a month, spirits as high as he had ever seen them, and paying for two rooms at the inn. She spent every single night at her table, the one with six seats, and ordered four ales every night. When asked why, she had simply explained that she was waiting for some friends to join her. He didn’t understand. She had always been waiting for friends, as long as she had been coming to the tavern. But Arche always got five ales and a chocolate milk for those friends. And this was only four.

And then, one night, he did understand.

Henry watched as the door to the tavern opened and in walked the blue haired boy with his blond friend, and a cleric with them as well. It had nearly bowled him over to be honest, he had thought they had died in Toltus with the rest. The blue haired archer stood in the back, by the door, eyes scanning the place with a seriousness that surprised Henry as the blond soldier asked if he had seen a half-elf with pink hair around recently.

Before he could even answer, Arche had jumped on the back of the archer and with a yelp both of them had fallen to the ground. The two blonds had turned and ran towards them, but Arche had already gotten up and had latched herself onto the cleric, sobbing something awful as she grabbed everyone else into a group hug and then dragging them over to her usual table. And watched as all of them grabbed a seat with no hesitation about where to sit, leaving two seats empty as if there was already someone sitting there.

He had been wrong it turned out. He had never seen her this happy. Ever. If her spirits had been high before, then they were absolutely _astronomical_ now. 

Without any prompting at all, Henry brought over the four ales and the four of them just started talking. Questions were being thrown around relentlessly. They were asking her what she had been up, how was Claus, she asked them how the reconstruction was going. They spent hours there that night, all of them acting like they were seeing an old friend, though Henry had never once seen any of them together in the same room. To put it simply, it was weird.

Weirdest of all had been when Arche had looked over and asked for her Six-Drink special once conversation had started to die down. Confused, he brought it over and set it out. Watched as the cleric, who was the closest to one of the empty seats, set the chocolate milk there and the archer set the other ale at the empty seat next to him. With that, they made a silent toast, and drank their drinks. No fight from Arche for stealing the drinks like she always did. Instead acting like they had always been meant for them.

Drinks done, the soldier and cleric left the table, his hand on her back, and they both walked to the inn rooms upstairs, leaving only Arche and the archer at the table. Henry caught none of their conversation, foreheads pressed firmly together and speaking under their breaths, but by the way she kept gripping the sleeves of his shirt desperately and how he very firmly kept one hand on the back of her neck, he didn’t have to guess very hard.

Soon enough, they too retreated to the rooms upstairs and Henry went to go clear the table. And amongst all the of the empty mugs, he was unsurprised to find one full flagon of ale and a glass of milk.

\-------------------------------------------------------- 

Zephyr didn’t see a whole lot of Arche or Chester or Mint or Cress anymore. The four of them had become a package deal of sorts, where one went it was rare not to find the other three. She remembered back in her younger years, when her father had ran the inn and tavern in Euclid, that Arche and the others used to stop by every second Friday. But as the years went on and the others got older, they had come by less and less. Going from the Fridays to once a month to only every couple of months. Arche still came in of course, now more often with kids in tow, and the four of them always made time for their Six-Drink night every year, but they four of them had all but stopped coming when Dhaos started attacking.

She hoped they were alright. Arche was still as spry as when Zephyr had been a child, but the other three were nearing 70 now and it worried her. Sure they knew how to fight, they all did, but still.

She was still deep in her thoughts when the door to the tavern opened. She turned, ready to greet the newcomers, only to have the words die in her throat. In front of her stood Arche, who she recognized immediately, but she looked different and Zephyr couldn’t put her finger on why. With her was a man who wore the most ridiculous brown hat she had ever seen and tattoos all over his face and body, and a young girl who couldn’t have been older then twelve. It was the other three who made her freeze though.

Standing there were Cress, Mint, and Chester looking for all intents and purposes like they had been plucked straight of time from fifty years ago. There was no slouch in Cress’s shoulders, the cane he needed to walk with was gone. Chester’s hair hadn’t been that bright blue in nearly twenty years. And Mint stood unsure, gripping her staff in her hands, whereas the Mint she knew always stood tall and proud with that matronly smile on her face. Gone were the wrinkles and white hair and liver spots. Instead they all stood fresh-faced and eager.

Zephyr nearly keeled over from a heart attack at the sight. 

The man wearing the hat walked up to her and asked for a couple of rooms for the night, as well as a round of drinks for them, announcing that they were celebrating Cress’s win in the arena. And when he gave his order, she almost dropped her tray. Five ales and a chocolate milk. With that, the six of them walked over and sat at Arche’s table, the one she had been using for nearly a hundred years now, and sat down in the configuration Zephyr had come to know over the years. Cress in the middle of Mint and Chester, Arche sitting across from her husband, and the little girl sitting right where the glass of milk was always placed and the man taking the only other empty seat between Arche and Chester. 

They didn’t spend long there before moving to their rooms, But it was enough for Zephyr to convince herself that these were 100% the people she had known for years. Watching them interact was like simultaneously going back in time to when she was a little girl, peeking through her bedroom door at all the people having fun downstairs while her Daddy worked, and to just last month when the four of them had last come in for a visit. It was jarring and it was making her feel dizzy, so she called Norma over and went to go and lay down.

When she emerged a couple of hours later, they were all gone.

She saw the four of them again about a month later, Dhaos dead and gone and his castle destroyed. This time they were looking like they should have been, though the same little girl from earlier, Suzu they would introduce her as, accompanied them. They sat down at their table and ordered the Six-Drink special, and then returned to talking with Suzu like they hadn’t seen her in years.

When they left and Zephyr went to clean up the table, it was with a full mug, untouched and undrank, where the man with the hat had been sitting the month before.


End file.
